Born to be Bad

This is Cassie.

Cassie is a long coat Chihuahua. She weighs four pounds.

Cassie was meant to be a mountain lion... or a German Shepherd... or a Wolf with a large territory to patrol.

Constantly on guard, ever vigilent, totally willing to take on all comers... She's the first to investigate any unexpected  noise in the house, leaping from her bed to sound the alarm. Even when woken from a sound sleep, she begins barking from under the blanket to let the perp know she's on to him and will be there shortly to dismember his sorry ass.

Conversely, when done terrifying visitors with her fierce bark, she's the first to kiss an extended hand or climb in a lap.

She is also the regulator. She makes the rules about who can (Maddie) or cannot (Fiona) sneak frood from another dog's dish. She also determines which cat is allowed in the house (Bad Girl) and which is not (Buddy Boy). She's not above cornering a cat and sounding the alarm if they are where they should not be, either in the house or in a room of the house she's deemed off limits to them.

And she's hell on squirrels, birds and any neighborhood cat unlucky enough to stray into her back yard.

I think she has Born to be Bad tattooed on her behind.

Don't ever call her Foo Foo!

AG out!

PS~ All the dog toys are hers. She won't compromise on that.

The View from the Roof

This weekend, The Old Goat had to clean the gutters, a job he particularly dislikes. I thought perhaps I should join him and keep his spirits up....

Hello Dear! Fancy meeting you up here. No... don't turn around... I don't want you to lose your balance!

Now... for those of you who are unfamiliar with the lay out, over here.... look to your left, no right... look to your right!

No, that's my foot. And part of my leg. Yes, I'm scrunched in tiny ball. Despite the ziplining bravado, Asthmagirl retains her trepidation of high places. That is, they are to be experienced as infrequently as possible with no photographic evidence until after the event. Pass the inhaler! 

Now... look to the right of the photo above. Can you see it? No? Let me adjust my position...

Whoa! Slightly dizzy here! Trying to show you the little pink flowers next to the brick. And there's a white thing down there... good night! What is it? I don't even recognize my own flowers from this elevation. Never mind. Backing away.

TOG? Where'd you go?

Crap! He's all the way over there now! And doing a dandy job with those gutters.

Now you may have noticed the lack of development across the street from us? Wetlands. Our boy cat lived there for 6 weeks when he got lost when we moved here. There's all sorts of critters in there... moles, mice, rats and the killer raccoons. Sunday morning there was a woodpecker that drove the Brute Squad crazy!

Hey TOG! Don't leave me over here...

Okay, I'm outta here. Hey, wait a minute...! Is that my turkey brining bucket?

Ah heck! I'll reclaim it later!

AG out!

Unsophisticated West Coast Hicks

Headed your way!  

In case you're wondering what spurred yesterday's anxiety attack... In about a week, The Baroness von Bloggenschtern and yours truly will be winging our way East-ward to meet fellow bloggers at Blog Fest 2009. Unlike BlogHer, Blog Fest will be smaller in scale, enjoy much warmer temperatures and have "off the charts" humidity going for it. Not to mention some of the funniest, sweetest women you've ever met. I can't think why they're letting me come... Perhaps their vetting process is similar to the one used on last year's republican VP candidate...?

I think most of us are experiencing some level of anxiety as we pack... after all there's a lot on the line. The Baroness is representin' 604 (the area code for Vancouver, BC).... Home of the 2010 Winter Olympics. As the Blog Fest representative for her entire Province, she's understandably fretful about creating a positive impression. As a courtesy, I'm showcasing the 2010 Olympic mascots. Let this be a precursor to those who have yet to meet The Baroness... she's twice this adorable (and much less furry)!

Of the two of us, I have less pressure. I'm only representing the home of $4 a cup coffee 

 and really expensive operating systems... 

 and everyone's favorite foot fashion... the ubiquitous socks with sandals.

As a footnote (HAR! I crack myself up!), I will not be subscribing to the dual shod fashion while navigating points east! Mostly because I don't want people laughing behind my back as I drag my luggage through the airport! [footnote 2: Asthmagirl's luggage is not made of possum skin. She's upgraded to raccoon.]

So what am I worried about as I consider going off to meet these friends? Not much. A brief survey of attendees indicates that 90% of us believe we're pudgy, uninteresting and poorly groomed. That same 90% believe that everyone else there will be slim, fascinating, well traveled, bilingual and incapable of sweating. I've done the math... I'm pretty sure all of us will be sweating.

My one request to fellow attendees? If I look like I'm about to keel over from the heat and humidity and my death grip on my inhaler is slipping...? Please, do not ask me if I feel okay or tell me I don't look so good. Let's work on some alternate phrasing, shall we?

"The spam carving contest is over here" could easily substitute for " Holy cow, is she even breathing".

or...

"Does anyone know how to do a Viking funeral" could be code for "someone find her inhaler before we have to set her ablaze and push her out to sea".

And the Baroness and I have already worked up our response to any major faux pas that we might unknowingly make... "Well, that's how it's done on the West Coast". Um... Baroness? I think we need to work on that before we get on the plane next week. Just sayin...

Yours in Blog Fest anticipation,

Asthmagirl

Not that girl

The carefree, lighthearted one....

The one that conquered her fears and went river rafting for 3 days...

The one that kicks butt on a hike or a bike ride...

The one that feels strong...

The one that thought about reducing her meds...

The one that can withstand a little heat and humidity...

The one that has made peace with her asthma...

The one that isn't worried about a public attack...

The one that confidently packs her bags and flies across the county to meet her friends...

I'm not that girl...

I'm the one that is beginning to worry...

The one that wonders if her meds are up to the task...

The one that hopes her lungs can handle the challenge...

The one that hates the words "you don't look so good"...

The one that still dreads being publicly asthmatic...

The one that wants to relax and be "one of the girls"...

Yeah... I'm that girl...

Crap!

*begins shopping for an inhaler necklace*

Brilliant

He was an amazing endodontist. He got the terror thing and talked to me through the whole thing... actually making me laugh behind the rubber dam a few times! Instead of trying to numb my tooth, he went to the back and numbed my whole jaw. I think it helped that I took a Vicodin before I went... All in all, definitely one of my better experiences. My jaw is still sore, and I've developed quite a bit of swelling which I'm hoping will go away soon.

I can't wait to start feeling better and catch up with y'all. Hopefully tonight.

AG out!

PS~ Is it wrong that I wished I'd brought my camera in with me?  

Trepidation

Dr. Jim, who caters to my terror does not do root canals. I'm off to see some stranger who will undoubtably brutalize my tooth. But I like the outcome of being pain free.

Dr. Jim must have known how I would react... He had the box of tissue at the ready.

See you on the other side....

AG out